Quédate Un Ratito Más
by Little Red Rose on the Valley
Summary: RCD/Chris Winters x MC. Isadora reminisce about her life in Los Angeles, her shot at stardom and how she winded up as Chris Winters' lover.


Isadora cannot help herself but to stare, dead, at the roof of her bedroom.

Los Angeles was blessed with cool weather and a soft breeze blowing from the sea tonight. If the city had less luminous pollution, she was certain they would be able to admire a beautiful, late-Summer starry sky.

Her iPod was still docked at the station, low music filled the room, but it was not that she was paying any attention to what was on. The candles that lightened the place already burned out, the only source of clarity came from the flickering street lights.

It was on moments like those she wonders how she ended up like that.

When she left Iowa, she had dreams, she had hopes. Those did not last long under the Californian sun. She knows she had forgiven Chazz for lying to her, for saying he had this great gig as an agent and a big house to host her, but she cannot help but think she may have never come to the West Coast if she knew.

She was happy back home, was she not? She had her teaching degree, a nice gig working with children, and that fantasy of hers to be a movie star was dormant, she was satisfied working on community theatre shows every once in a while.

Chazz was insistent, though. He swore she had a special spark and, with his help, she could turn that into a 'supernova'.

She believed him. She sold everything she owed, quit her job and took a flight to La-La-Land.

For a while, she struggled to find even the lowliest of gigs. She starred on a few commercials for the worse kind of company one can imagine. It did not matter to her, she was determined. It was as they used to say, it is ninety-nine percent transpiration.

Finally, Isadora got her big break. A supporting role on the indie hype of the year, _Tender Nothings_. Co-starring with her childhood hero, Victoria Fontaine, and the guy she admits to have had a crush as a teen, Matt Rodriguez.

Things were not as easy as it first appeared, however. Victoria was ballistic against her, feeling horribly threatened by her presence as the 'fresh new face', while Matt, while a decent sort, was always either stressed over Markus van Groot, the director, and his rather unstable state of mind, or shielded by his elitist, entitled entourage.

For a gregarious person like Isadora, being snubbed out, being unable to form more personal connections to her cast mates was a challenge, but a wise person once said, you are born alone, you die alone. She could handle it.

Handle she did, extraordinarily so, one might say. She managed Markus' genius to a point he was almost tame and predictable, she pushed towards some of Teja's, the assistant director, ideas, she calmed Matt and helped him soldier through the numerous reshoots, and she held her head gracefully in face of Victoria's abuse.

Her goal was to prove herself not only as a talented actor, but also as someone easy, even pleasurable, to work with, and for a while, she was regarded as such. Even Victoria started coming around to her.

One night, however, sometime along the shooting, Teja said Markus would like to treat Matt and Victoria to a nice dinner, exclusive to the stars. The other actress could not miss the opportunity to rub it on Isadora's face, the fact she was not important enough to attend.

The next day, every major gossip headline in town mentioned that dinner. It was said their drinking got very out of hand and they ended up confessing some pretty embarrassing, tethering on career ending, secrets.

What was puzzling on the story is that the restaurant was closed off for them, and little people other than the attendees knew they would even be there that night.

Victoria, of course, jumped to conclusions and blamed the whole thing on Isadora's alleged ambition and desire to take her off the movie to have the lead role all to herself.

As soon as she stepped on set, the A-lister pranced on her and hit her to the point she had to get stitches afterwards, quitting the production soon afterwards. Matt, always with the hoard mentality, followed suit.

Appalled with the lack of professionalism of his American colleagues, Markus talked with the studio and they agreed the best thing to be done was pulling the plug on the production.

Isadora was fired, with a generous rescission package and a heartfelt request for her not to sue. Which she did not.

Something broke inside her that day, besides her nose and teeth. She realized she did not want to be an actor any longer. She did not want to have her life displayed like that, and she did not want to deal with the Markus, Matts and Victorias of the industry.

It just was not worth it.

A few weeks later, Matt knocked on her door, saying he had figured out the whole exposé on them was work of his agent, who was adamant he dedicated himself to another sequel of an action franchise. He said he was sorry, and that he wanted to revive _Tender Nothings_.

She answered him she did not want to work in show business any longer. He interpreted it as hardballing, and offered to expand her part.

Looking back, it was what cemented her decision to leave. How dared him? To come to her door with a meagre apology and feel like he had the right to demand anything of her? To think that her struggle, that her acquired distaste for the industry was just some concoction of hers? That it could all be solved throwing some money at it?

Had he learnt nothing from what happened? Or was it that he felt Isadora was too insignificant to pay mind?

Be as it may, she sent him away and she never saw him again.

After that, she rebuilt her life. With the severance, she could purchase the, admittedly shitty but very affordable, apartment she currently lives, and she found another job at a private day-care, which paid reasonably well.

Overall, her acting career was now only memories and an obscure credit on IMDb.

That is not to say it was the last she ever heard from the Hollywood folks she met during her stint at _Tender Nothings_. She and Teja were friends, and Markus was still trying to coax her back into his movies. He had taken an admiration for her, as it seems.

And that's the turning point.

Learning from the resounding failure of Matt's, Markus, instead of appealing for her vanity or ambition, decided to take the long road and make friends with her, show her while _Tender Nothings_ was pretty awful, she still could find good people within the industry.

Isadora was unmoved, but she enjoyed her relationship with the director, and his wife was a surprisingly reasonable, easy-to-please person, quite the kind of people she appreciated having as friends.

One night, at Markus' birthday celebration, she was trying to treat herself to a break from the characteristic madness of a van Groot party in some unoccupied room upstairs.

It was where she met _him_.

Usually, when people talk about how they met their significant others, it is some kind of meet-cute, like a mismatch at the coffee shop or a bump on their way to class or to work.

It was not like that with them. How could it be? Everything about them was twisted, their first meeting would not be the one conformist thing about them.

Isadora Andel met Christopher Winters while he was having a panic attack.

Not many people know, but America's Heartthrob was taken to cocaine use, and while he had cut down over the years, he never really stopped riding the white horse.

Continuous drug use, especially one as strong as the uncut cocaine rampant in Hollywood, leads to undesirable side effects. Chris developed panic attacks.

Thanks to her teachers' school, Isadora had a few psychology classes under her belt and knew how to deal with a situation like that, helping the poor man to gather himself back together.

Once again at a normal heart paced, Chris offered Isadora something to drink, very thankful and somewhat embarrassed by the whole ordeal. She accepted, after all she did not know anyone else at the party, and it was Chris Winters, another of her teenage crushes.

She may have been a movie dork at high school. May have.

They drank, and they talked, and they drank some more. Sometime, late in the night, they started kissing, and undressing, and they had a pretty good time.

The morning after, the first two things Isadora thought when she woke up was that she was beyond hung over and that she had sex with the most desired man in America.

The very married, very unavailable most desired man in America.

She started having a minor panic attack of her own, freaking out about the absurd situation she put herself. She had left show business to avoid the exposition, and she now finds herself on what could very well be the scandal of the decade.

Her hyperventilation ended up waking up Chris himself, who had the taste, or the carelessness, of sleeping beside her after the sex. Not unlike his companion, the same two thoughts ran through his mind, and he too had a minor anxiety burst over the situation.

They were grown, reasonable people, though, they were able to get a grip and face the situation with logic.

Isadora soon realized she was in no danger. Chris would not want for it to leak, he was married and a messy divorce would damage his career and, above all, his all-American boy image.

The man, in turn, concluded it was best not to corner the girl, to question her forcefully if she was some kind of paparazzi infiltrate. If she was, she would not tell him, and if she was not, it might just change her mind. He would call his publicist and they would figure out what to do.

They calmly, yet very, very awkwardly, greeted each other and traded reassurances that it was just a one-time thing and it would be best kept forgotten, the kind of thing not-so-normal people did after a one-night stand with a stranger.

Relieved, and feeling a sense of security with the young woman, Chris offered to take her home. He was driving, after all, and he felt like he owed her some kindness, due to his panic attack the night before, and for, as much as he could remember of their conversation, her being a wholesome person.

It was a long drive between Bel Air, where Markus lived and hosted his soirée, to Little Armenia, where Isadora's apartment was located, and during the good part of the hour they were contained in close quarters they conversed.

What else would they do, after all?

Isadora talked about her life, things like what was like back in Iowa and what was like living in Los Angeles. Chris, for his turn, shared some anecdotes of his own small-town childhood and impressions on some of his work.

As the sleek car parks in front of the downtrodden apartment block, both of them wished the journey had lasted longer, even if neither wanted to admit it.

The woman smiles at him softly, thanks him for the ride, it was very kind of him, and the grace he dealt with the situation. After everything with Matt and Victoria, she was relieved for not being blamed for a PR disaster again.

He said he, too, was glad for everyone that could have found him at that bedroom; it had been her.

For a moment, time stood still. Neither breathed nor moved, they just looked deep into each other's eyes.

Then they kissed.

An hour later, they were undressed and spent on Isadora's bed and Chris notes, with a degree of humour, "What's about us that we can't talk and not have sex?"

So, their relationship starts. Chris would call late at night, at odd days of the week and ask to come over. Isadora would have the house ready and a hot meal waiting for him.

He came, sad or stressed, and would talk away what concerned him, a particularly difficult job or some altercation with the shrew of his wife. She would pet his hair lazily, let him eat empty calories, offer some input and perspective and suddenly he was fine again.

After, he would show his deep appreciation for her on a physical manner. It might be as good for him as it was for her, but the thought would remain.

They were fine like that for a while, it was all good for them both, but something started to change. There was not a time when they did not care for each other, but in the beginning, they were _friends_ , people who help and like each other and have the occasional sex.

Now… it changed. Isadora likes Chris, she may growing to love him, and she was somewhat certain that he feels the same for her, too, but it does not the change the fact he is married. That she has to share him with someone else. That there is a part of his life that does not pertain her, that she is not welcome.

She longs for more. Yes, he was a movie star and that is a hindrance on itself, but even as a celebrity, they could have dinners out, attend parties, go to the cinema and have a life together.

Before Isadora could consider it further, the water noise coming from her bathroom stops. Soon enough, Chris emerges at the door, a towel wrapped around his waist.

"I should go, I guess." He says, his voice just above a whisper.

It was a moment neither of them appreciated much. The goodbyes. The parting. The underlined assumption he would be returning to the arms of his not-so-beloved wife.

"Don't." She responds, turning her face to look deep inside his green eyes. "The sun will rise soon, just lay here with me until then."

The man sighs. "Isadora, I…"

"I know what you're going to say." She cuts him off. "People will end up noticing, paparazzi will see, but that will only happen if you leave. They can't find you here."

Her childlike logic tickles him, sends some shine to the darkness, graveness of his depression, his sadness.

It was too good, too short, to let go just yet.

He lets the towel that covers his intimacy fall to the ground. He circles the bed, and lays next to his lover and kisses her cheek.

"I can't say no to you." He confesses, voice grave and a melancholic smile on his expression.

"I'm glad." She responds. "I really love you, you know."

His smile widens, his eyes twinkle. "I love you, too."

In bed, together, they saw the purple light slowly flooding the room, announcing the impending, inevitable separation.

So it may be, but for now, they could ignore it and take delight on each other's presence.


End file.
